Renegade
by HandOfTheQueen
Summary: A young Emma Swan, exiled from her own Kingdom, finds comfort in the arms of her parent's greatest enemy. Set twelve years later, Emma remains sworn to the Queen of the Dark Palace as Her Royal Highness Regina begins her plans for revenge against Snow White. Evil!Emma/Regina. AU FTL. SwanQueen.
1. Chapter 1

**Backstory: A young Emma Swan, exiled from her own Kingdom, finds comfort in the arms of her parent's greatest enemy. Set twelve years later Emma remains sworn to the Queen of the Dark Palace as Her Royal Highness Regina begins her plans for revenge against Snow White. Evil!Emma. SwanQueen. Currently a One Shot with mature themes (aka smut.) Potential to be expanded.**

**Emma is 28 in this story, while Regina has been pretty much 'frozen' at thirty four for quite some time now.**

**Disclaimer: I own no rights associated with Once Upon A Time. I am simply borrowing the characters. All mistakes are my own.**

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Regina walked her ways through the dark halls of the Dark Palace, the lamps throwing long shadows along the stones that made up the floors and walls. She trailed her fingers over the stones that made up the walls as she walked along the halls, and listened to the echoing sound her feet made as she walked along. In the distance she could hear the shouting and laughter and voices of people having dinner in the great hall. She'd already been there and had her meal but she hadn't felt like lingering in the hall. The loud voices and laughter, along with the smells of the meal had overwhelmed her senses, and so she'd been glad to escape the sounds and smells into the dark, shadowy halls of the Dark Palace.

She walked down the hall to the large, heavy wood door that led her to her chambers and pushed it open, always with a little effort. Closing it behind her she took a deep breath, and allowed the warmth of her chambers to envelop her. Her chamber's walls were filled with hot water from the hot springs, keeping it warm, even in the coldest of winter nights. She unlaced her deep red dress and lay it out on the chair at her vanity. Her chambers, on the ground floor to be close to the hot springs, had a bath chamber off of it, with a large hot spring for her to bathe in. She walked into the chamber, discarding her undergarments as she went, and releasing her brown hair from its bun. The dark waves sprang loose, and cascaded over her bare shoulders as she put the pins used to keep her hair up aside.

Regina tested the water with her toes and found it to be the perfect temperature. Sliding into the hot spring, she let out a sigh as the warmth enveloped her, sitting on the ledge and resting her head back, eyes closed. Normally she spent the whole of the meal at her love's side, but tonight she needed some time to herself, she needed time to think. It had been a long night and it was nearing a close. She found the guests in their halls less than appealing company. But the savages were mere pawns Regina found necessary to acquire for the upcoming attacks on the southern regions. With a small sigh, Regina sunk further into the warm waters as she let her mind drift away from such thoughts.

Despite all that had come to fruition during her journeys to the Western Woods, Emma Swan was more than happy to be home. The rich foods of the west had certainly taken little time to reach her gut, the lamprey, blood sausages, spiced hare, even iced blueberries? The lot of it was enough to make the Queen's Commander nearly swallow whole her roasted aurochs, her smoked salt fish, boar's ribs and all the quails drowned in butter once she was back at her own table. It was whole, Northern food, hot and true, and it seemed to reach not only her stomach but also her very core. Emma looked on with a small grin about her strong jaw line, wiping clean her greased fingers with a fine cloth napkin having been brought forth by a nearby servant.

_I should call my banners this very moment_, she thought silently to herself, reaching absentmindedly for her own horn of hearty ale. _They would follow me in an instant._ Their blood was rising and it was hot, and not even worn from the journey back home, Emma knew her men were aching for more than mere tourneys. Men deserved to die not by a decorated lance or sold sword, but out there, in the cold, on the battlefield, fighting for their families. For the Kingdom. Glancing to the side, it was only then did Emma realize her Majesty had gone, and only vaguely remembered the brief farewell she spoke to her before leaving. Furrowing her brows, the Commander wasted little time in finishing off her ale before she stood and departed the Great Hall. Even as she passed through the doors, she could hear her lords and her knights calling after her, but ignoring them with nothing more than a single wave of her hand, their Commander in Arms was gone.

For every Queen must have her sworn sword. Even after years of service, Emma did not falter in her duties. _Lest I have the wrath of the Queen rain down upon me_, she thought with a smirk, coming into her chambers already shedding herself of her fur cloak and tall leather boots. She had missed her heavier clothes when at the Western Woods, had completely loathed the sweat she broke every day being there. Eyes landing upon Her Majesty in the floor-level, dark marble tub, a breath of contentment passed her lips. _Home._ Even feeling the warmth of the stonewalls as she leaned upon them brought a layer of goosebumps across her arms. For just a moment, Emma was happy merely watching her Queen in the nearly bubbling water of the hot spring being drawn up from beneath the castle, if only for awhile resisting the urge to join her. "Your Majesty," she greeted, a handsome smile across her lips as she finally walked over to the edge of the tub. Looking down to her, she sunk slowly to her knees, leaning all the way down to put a kiss to her mouth before flashing her a playful wink. "You look ever so comfortable," she noted, still smiling as she began to unbutton her smoke grey doublet.

"Shall I join you?" Emma asked, perhaps rhetorically as she shrugged out of the embroidered doublet, letting it fall to the floor behind her. Ignoring whatever servants still occupied the room, she moved to undo the iron buckle of her belt before slipping the leather strap from the waist of her breeches. "Or am I only disturbing you?" She continued playfully, loosening the ties of her trousers.

The door banged shut but Regina did not turn to see who it was this time, she assumed that her servant had left her to bathe, however, moments later the voice of her Commander in Arms interrupted her thoughts. She turned her brown eyes upon her, and watched as she walked over, already without her fur cloak or leather boots, a smile falling into place on her lips. She watched as Emma sank slowly down and leaned in to kiss her. She allowed a low chuckle to escape her when the Commander winked at her, and spoke in a soft voice. "My brave knight, we aren't alone you know, you shouldn't be so brash."

Her servant Rose was still on the other side of the chamber, gathering up used linens and clothes to take for cleaning, the girl did not hear Regina as she had hoped she would, or perhaps she did, and did not hurry to leave the chamber, if anything, she began taking her time more, and Regina saw her eyes flash to Emma as she removed her doublet, however, instead of snapping she simply bit her tongue, and laughed when Emma spoke again. "You hardly need to ask to join me," Her voice was like the purr of a cat, warm, inviting, and with a hint of sensuality that she knew the blonde enjoyed. She turned and leaned against the side of the tub, her arms folded on the cold stone floor at the edge of it, resting her chin on her arms and smiling at Emma, while still keeping her breasts hidden in the warm waters of the spring. "And you know I like being disturbed, when it's by you."

"Pah!" Emma replied, green eyes not even moving to see the servant girl in the distance of the chamber. "Fie on virgin ears!" She chortled, shaking her head as the Queen finally gestured for the girl to leave. The Commander in Arms paid little mind to the presence of the servants... all of her life, they had helped dress and bathe her, and were she not mistaken, nearly all of them had seen both she and the Queen as bare as their name day by now. To share a room with servants as she enjoyed a bath with the Queen was as normal to her as the snowdrifts in summer, and she flashed her Majesty a playful wink as she finally dropped her trousers to the ground and happily kicked them aside. The purr-like invitation she gave made her waste little time in ridding herself of the simple linen undergarments, and with careful footing, Emma quickly descended into the marble tub with Regina.

"Aahhhh, yes, this is what I missed," she smirked, layers of goosebumps prickling across her skin as she sank into the steaming water. "The airs of the Western Woods are simply foul," Emma spoke, maneuvering herself over to the Queen, the surface of the water just over her shoulders as she kept herself submerged and warm. Her eyes flickered to the round swells of her breasts still half-concealed by the softly bubbling spring water, a smirk still tugging at the corners of Emma's mouth. "I could not find moments like these even if the gods demanded it of me." Her arms, unseen beneath the water, snaked around the Queen's waist, chuckling as she slid her across the marble seat and into her chest. "You should have attended," she put a kiss, her lips dampened from the steam, to the hollow beneath Regina's ear. "Does not the sound of thousands of men drenched in their own sweat rouse you from your wintry keep?" Emma chuckled again, happy in the presence of the Queen. She was not lordly, but she was Emma Swan. A woman who simply loved to serve the woman who had saved her all those years ago.

"Were I ten years younger, I would complain about my lance not having your favor around it." And yet, the Commander in Arms had ceased to enter the lists ever since her Queen demanded her presence at the Dark Palace. Emma, nearing twenty and eight, had her body attuned for more things than required of a simple tourney knight. "And yet, I am only to complain like a long lost lover, missing her wife from her side as I sat in the viewing stands," her voice was low yet still playful, evident by the smirk remaining across her mouth. "Watching younger knights either triumph over their opponents, or..." her mind wandered to Graham and that stupid, stupid, stupid stunt he had pulled at the tournament... "make complete and absolute fools of themselves." Her hands began to wander over the dove-soft swells of Regina's breasts, her palms barely brushing by her perfectly-sized nipples. "How could you sentence your poor Commander to such a lonely fate?" she teased, putting another kiss to the side of the Queen's neck, holding her there against her with her back to Emma's chest.

"The Western Woods were so hot, as if still heated by dragonfire..." a content, growl-like purr rumbled deep from within her chest. "But it was so cold without my wife by my side." She gave her a gentle squeeze with her arms, hugging Regina to her, enjoying the feel of her wet, naked skin against her. "How could you, my Queen?"

A moment later Emma's strong arms were around Regina, pulling her from her seat on the marble ledge and into her lap. The Queen rested her head back against Emma's chest and smiled softly, listening to her speak in her ear. She had not attended a tournament in the west in many years, and she had still felt the draw of the tournaments. Back when she was but a girl she had loved the crowds of people in their colorful clothes, the sound of the jousting and sword fighting, the feasts with platters full of foods that could not be had in the far northern reaches of the Enchanted Forest, the festive music and dancing, but now tournaments no longer held the lure that they once had, and so she had decided to stay home in the Northern Kingdom instead of venturing down to Western Woods as she would have when she were younger.

"Were we ten years younger I would have followed you west, put my favor on your lance and watched as you won the tournament my love." She let her voice remain a soft purr, barely above a whisper. Regina was about to speak, to tell her not to fret over what had happened to the Huntsman at the moment, but Emma's hands began wandering over her naked body and her damp lips pressed against the hollow of the Queen's neck and she could not find the words to come to her lips. Emma's arms were wrapped around her, holding her close to the blonde's body, Regina's back against her chest, and Emma's voice a deep growl that sent shivers through her body.

"And the Dark Palace was colder than ever without you to hold me at night my love." She turned in her lap so that she was facing Emma, her legs on either side of the knight, but she stayed low in the water, still hiding her breasts from her, enjoying the game they were playing. She reached up and rested her tanned hands on Emma's bare chest, gently stroking her muscles with her long, delicate fingers. "My heart ached for you night and day, and the snows that fell muffled all the sounds, I felt that I would lose my mind up here without you." Her hands still roamed over Emma's chest, gently tracing patterns with warm water.

The Commander in Arms ran her calloused fingers across the top of her wife's thighs, Regina's skin supple from the hot bubbling water. She returned her purrs with low growls of the blonde's own, putting periodic kisses to the nape of Regina's neck and shoulders. "So how could you my love... Leave your Queen when she needed you," Regina asked. She was not angry, but still teasing, a playful smile bordering on a smirk playing on her lips as she leaned in to plant one kiss on Emma's chest before she pulled back from her, out of the gentle embrace of her strong arms. Regina would have liked to stay in her arms forever, but this had become a game between the two of them, and she was determined not to lose. She moved to the other side of the tub and rose from the water to stand at her full height, revealing her breasts to the cool chill of the air only once her back was to Emma and she could not see.

The gods had given Emma her savior ten years ago, for her marriage to her beautiful wife, for the triumphs of war... she was sure they had not abandoned her now. Especially not with how her Queen remained naked and submerged beneath the hot bath waters. The green of her eyes disappeared behind heavy lids as Regina began to stroke her chest, the familiarity of her touch enough to threaten a slumber if Regina continued long enough. Emma's hands wandered up the length of her back, only to roam back down to rest on either side of the Queen's hips as Regina continued to trace patterns into her skin. "I fear the sounds of breaking lances and... ghastly trumpets were only enough to remind me that I have long since grown out of such things." Emma chuckled, forgetting the many knights of her own age still embroidering a name for themselves in the velvet purses of tourney victors. _For I have a Queen to serve_, she thought, drawing close for a kiss. _A lady to love..._

The kiss she had slowly begun to lean in for was returned with one only upon her chest, Regina's lips brief and fleeting as she suddenly disentangled herself from Emma's grasp. Her eyes opened and she let an absentminded hand reach for Regina beneath the water, eyebrows furrowing if only slightly once the Queen reached the opposite side of the great tub. Watching her, Emma sat back against the smooth marble seat. "Had I known my Queen had such great need of me.." the forest-colored hues of her eyes wandered across Regina's body as she stood from the water, watching the way the steam rose from her love's wet skin. "I would have persuaded you to join us." As Regina turned to glance at Emma over her shoulder, Emma flashed her a quick wink, a corner of her mouth turned upwards in a playful smirk, unable to help herself from glimpsing at her wife's bare, round backside from across the tub.

"And if you have such need of me.." she tore her eyes away and back up to her face. "Why are you leaving me again?" The smirk remained, but the glint of wanting in Emma's gaze did not fade as she looked to her. Very slowly Emma began to move through the water, coming over to the edge of the tub where Regina stood. "Or does my wife have other ideas?" She asked, arching a playful eyebrow.

Emma made Regina feel young, and alive. The wink of her green eyes brought a chiming laugh like silver from the Queen's lips and a flash of a smile over her bare shoulder at her wife. The way Emma's eyes moved along her body, noticing everything about her, made her feel as beautiful as the day they had met, twelve years ago, upon Emma's sixteenth year, when she had been left to her own devices, exiled from her own home. And the look in Emma's eyes, the slight shine of want within them as she moved through the warm water towards Regina, made her forget the imperfections her age was giving her. That look told her that to Emma she was as beautiful and as worthy of the affection of the Commander in Arms as the day when Emma had arrived in the Northern Kingdom. "I would never leave you, my love," She whispered softly, her lips forming around the words so softly, breathing them as a sigh.

_My love. Not my knight_, though she was her white knight, but she was so much more than that. She was her wife, her love, her protector; it was Emma's arms that warmed her in the cold of winter and the sound of her breathing that sent Regina drifting to sleep at night. It was Emma's heartbeat she knew as well as her own. "I am right here… I have always been right here." Regina dropped her games, her teasing and her coy smile fell from her face as she turned to face Emma. The Queen reached up and ran two delicate fingers over the shape of her jaw, feeling the strong form beneath them. "Waiting for you." It was true; all her life she had spent waiting for Emma. She had spent her childhood waiting for her happy ending, thought stolen by Snow White, and then her years as a young woman waiting to exact her revenge against the very same woman. When Emma was sixteen, she had come across the Evil Queen in the Northern Kingdom. When the blonde traveled to the many holds of the north while she was heavy with sorrow and too fragile to return to her parents, Regina had held her arms open to the blonde. For what the woman did to her own daughter- Regina would make her pay with her life.

Even when Emma was away Regina waited, through her long meetings, her sessions of council and hearing the pleas of her soldiers, Regina's warriors. And when she went to the Western Woods and took her men, she had waited for her. She could have followed Emma, but Regina was not used to following. She was used to waiting.

_Forget the false Queen and her Prince_, Emma told herself, crawling out of the tub and rising to stand in front of her wife. A sly smile spread across her lips as Regina trailed a hand alongside her jaw. _War is coming, and Regina will keep me warm_. Emma reached up and brushed the apple of her wife's cheek with her fingertips, bending her neck to catch a kiss from her moistened lips. "I pray to the gods that you will forgive me for leaving," the blonde spoke, smirking as she stole another kiss. Emma stepped closer to her Queen, their bodies wet from the water finally touching as she snaked his arms around her waist. "...And pray that you will have further patience with your poor knight." Never mind what protest Regina may have, Emma did not allow her the time nor breath as she pressed her mouth to Regina's yet again, sighing through her nostrils once she felt Regina's breasts against her own.

Letting her hands wander to the bottom curve of her ass, Emma did not falter in her strength as she hefted her wife from her feet, winding her legs around the knight's waist before taking Regina to the bedside. Emma smirked hungrily and happily as she let Regina fall to the mattress, ignoring the droplets of water that coated their bodies. _Never mind the furs and other fine blankets,_ the Commander in Arms had only one thing upon her mind. _Let them have their 'pure constitution',_ she thought for a moment, falling in between Regina's legs and meeting her mouth with her own. _I shall have this._ However much had happened in the Western Woods, Emma was more than content in forgetting it for the sweet embrace of her wife. For how long had she gone without it? No matter how used she was to the battlefield, to quiet, empty chambers of her own at night, she would always miss the comfort and intimacy of her Queen. Over ten years married and still, she hungered for Regina as she did upon the night of their wedding.

"Shall I seek forgiveness, my Queen?" She whispered, smirking as she pressed her lips to Regina's neck and down to her collarbone, wrapping her up in Emma's arms until the heat harbored between them rivaled the very springs coursing through the Dark Palace's walls. "Redemption for my lonely wife?"

As lips trailed down Regina's neck to her collarbone, Regina mewled at the attention her wife gave her. "If you missed me much, why don't you show me?" She challenged. "Prove your devotion to your Queen."

Emma sunk down to her knees, her hands trailing along the tops of Regina's thighs. Her hands gently pushed her wife's legs apart as she pulled Regina in for another kiss, this time placed gently on her inner thigh. "_My Queen_" she claimed, still gripping Regina by the waist, hands sliding up and down the Queen's thighs and back again. The excitement was building in her chest as she adjusted her wife's hips quietly. Emma's fingers gripped tightly in her wife's flesh, clutching her close to the blonde. As she trailed kissed on her wife's hips Regina's moans became needy as desire spurred her. It took all of the Queen's willpower not to buck her hips forward.

"You are mine to have," Emma said with such force that Regina felt a shiver run down her spine. "No other can dare touch you." Her words were serious and possessive as her lips found Regina's wet folds. She teased Regina's clit her just the tip of her tongue as green eyes flickered to take in the sight of her wife. She was truly a work of art in the knight's eyes. An eager buck of the Queen's hips met Emma's lips, causing the blonde to grin. The feeling of her wife so close to her spurred her to quit teasing.

Regina's hips writhed against the blonde's mouth. Her head titled backwards as a low moan escaped the back of her throat and her name fell from her lips. "Emma," a tan hand snaked it's way down to bury itself in blonde locks. Emma had started a rhythm, slowly pumping her tongue in and out of Regina. The Queen's free hand dug into the feather mattress as her wife's eyes stayed on hers, never glancing away. "My love," she urged quietly, her head bent as she focused on the slow and steady rhythm the blonde was set on keeping. Regina's legs wrapped around Emma, holding her tight as though she would let go. Her hips moved to meet every little move her wife made between her legs. Gone where the soft whimpers form earlier as Regina's hips moved at a much faster pace.

"My Queen," Emma repeated the words. Her thumbs worked circles into her thighs, pushing against the taught muscles and perfect skin. 'I will be with you my love, always,' she reassured as she felt Regina's grip tighten. Emma concentrated on the feel of Regina's clenching around her tongue, memorizing the feeling as she changed her pace to something faster and deeper.

The Queen's head tipped back as she worked her eyes closing as she gave a sharp cry. Regina was so close. The sounds of her and her lover filled the silence that had fallen in the room. Regina wanted to tell Emma she promised the same to her, but Emma's mouth moved at just the right angle against her and a gust of pleasure tore through her, finally spilling over the edge that had been building. "Yes, Emma yes," she cried as Emma buried her face further into her folds. Regina ducked her face into her pillows as Emma gave one final rough bite to her clit, causing the Queen to lose her own senses other than what her wife had just done to her.

Emma pulled back as she heard her wife call out, knowing she had come completely undone. She carefully crawled up; placing gentle kisses against the tan skinned before the blonde buried her face within her wife's neck. "Long live the Queen," Emma whispered to her wife, the pleased grin pressed against Regina's skin. Emma's arms wrapped around Regina's waist, pulling her wife close to her while she waited for the Queen to regain her senses. "Regina," she said quietly into her ear, brushing hair back as her lips met her lob, biting and nipping gently. "Come back to me my love."

At long last the Queen stretched her legs out. She slid her body, slick with sweat, so she was laying half on top of Emma, half on the bed, one leg curling around her as one arm draped across her wife's chest. Regina shifted contently in Emma's arms as she closed her eyes. Her wife's soft words and teeth stirred her from her stupor. A shiver sliding down her spine and a soft noise of recognition escaped her red lips, "Yes?" she murmured as she rolled her eyes upwards to look at Emma and smiling sleepily. She felt content here, with Emma's arms tight around her and the feeling of her heartbeat under her hand. Regina reached up to push Emma's hair out of her face, her finger scratching lightly against her scalp.

Regina felt as though she was on fire against Emma's skin. Regina was her sun, her entire world. "Are you afraid. Of the future?" the knight asked.

"No." The response came with no delay. As Regina rested her head against the knights chest, she let her mind wander to what life had in store for them. "Soon dear, soon we shall both be free of Snow White and her _Charming_ Prince." She told Emma with a wistful smile playing across her lips. Her fingers traced intricate patterns against her wife's chest. Regina paused for a moment before curling herself further into the blonde's frame. "Having second thoughts?" she questioned seriously as she ran her fingers through her blonde hair.

Emma's lips went to the top of Regina's scalp, her grip around the Queen tightening in response to her wife's question. "Never," the blonde replied darkly. The resolution in her wife's voice gave cause for the Evil Queen's grin.

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**If you feel up to it, let me know what you think if my first story. Thanks for taking the time to read it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**This story's chapters will alternate between present time of the plot and flashbacks of major points in Emma's past. The first few flashback chapters will not feature the Evil Queen, but she will not be absent for long. The flashback scenes are here to show the transformation of the young Princess Emma to the present day Evil!Emma.**

**Disclaimer: I own no rights associated with Once Upon A Time. I am simply borrowing the characters. All mistakes are my own.**

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_Flashback: Emma, Age Sixteen._

Emma's green eyes surveyed the lively court area and nearly grimaced. There was something about interacting with other people that made her cringe. It wasn't her fault, of course, Emma simply did not enjoy the idea of befriending people that would throw her glares and use her. She knew that not all people were like that, but she wouldn't be bale to tell the difference until their dark, greedy minds were upon her and trying to drain her of every resource the could. As soon as she had arrived, she was separated from her father – stolen up by other Lords and Ladies that insisted that they catch up - and her dear friend Pinocchio, though she had no idea where he ran off to, seeing as he didn't often leave her side without her knowing.

Alone in the sea of bodies, Emma strolled around through the crowd alongside her lady in waiting, avoiding eye contact with most people. Surely she looked like a young, lost soul, but she didn't care. She scanned the crowds for the face of her friend, but Pinocchio's mane of russet hair was nowhere in sight. Knowing the young boy, he was probably causing mischievous grief for the other guest. Her mouth drew into a tight line at the very thought of it. She would just have to catch up with him later, Emma thought to herself as she brushed her own hair out of her face and tucked it neatly behind her ears as she approached the floor full of people. In the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder whether or not the Cantys were in attendance. Father had only told her that men from the Southern Marshes had coming to Summerlands. Noble men from House Canty, but which men he did not say.

Safe in Summerlands, Emma often thought about the faceless boy. Edward. The young Prince of the South. She wondered what it would be like when she was finally betrothed or when she journeyed to her new home for the very first time, really. She knew that there were things that were going to be changing the coming months. A rebellion was always rumored with the reign of the current King and Queen. Emma had been sheltered from the politics involved with her parents ascension to the throne, but many neighboring kingdoms had been keen to debunk the royal family. In shadows tucked away from the paranoid mind of the Evil Queen, people were starting to get more common, far away from the prying ears of her spies. There was something about it that Emma could not bring herself to like. She often worried about her family, her friends, all of the Summer Palace.

They lesser lords of the Summer Palace were arriving today, she heard. Eager to see both King James and King Canty keep company. The Summer Palace and the Southern Marshes had a long and amicable relationship for as long as historians could remember. The neighboring lands had used marriage in the past to continue their peace, but the union of Princess Emma and Prince Edward was the first time in many years that the two great houses were playing a role in the negotiations. How the two came to such and idea was still unknown to Emma. Simply because she was the only child did not mean she was privy to all of her father and mother's choices.

"They have arrived, Princess Emma," one of her guards told her, "Your father wishes that you see yourself well as you greet them" Emma nodded slightly and cast one last outward look over the doors of the castle leading out of the crowded and turned on her heel to follow her guard to the honored guests. The thought of searching for her betrothed was ebbing at the back of her mind, though she pushed it back because she didn't even know what the Canty boy looked like. If there was anything that worried her, it was the idea of having the Prince being unhappy with his marriage.

Emma turned to her lady in waiting. "Find Pinocchio before he causes a scene," she said knowingly. Her lady in waiting flashed her a disappointing look, obviously hurt by the dismissal. "Run along Dawn. Find Pinocchio and I am certain you shall find Baelfire." Emma almost felt guilty for using her friend's affections against her, but the young girl's mood seemed to brighten at the prospect of spending time with the young ward.

Emma tugged at the hem of her sleeve, the deep blue fabric pulled to cover her wrists. Intuition was leading her to believe that the young Prince Edward Canty was indeed going to be arriving at Summerlands. Mother was not as crafty as she thought she was, making the crucial mistake of reminding Emma countless times to be on her best behavior. As though she was the one he ever needed to worry about. Her handmaidens had made sure she was well dressed for the evening, doting over the young girl more so than usually. Had she been as naive as her lady in waiting Dawn she would have thought nothing of it.

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When his father had summoned him months ago to speak of the journey to Summer Palace, Edward had automatically assumed he was to stay at home and watch his sister and brother while King Robert conducted his business. Edward usually sneered at being left home and would often dispute the idea with his father, but this time Robert patted him on the back and told him to pack.

Though originally the boy was excited and bragged about it to his siblings, he tried to hide it around his father. "_It will just be business,"_ Robert said. "_The Summerlands and the Southern Marshes have been allies for a long time and it needs to stay that way. We're only going to solidify our alliance and your betrothal."_ Ah yes, there was always a catch. Edward had found out about his betrothal to Princess Emma White a few years prior and hadn't exactly embraced the idea. The Wild Prince was just that, wild and completely obligated to chase whichever woman he wanted - or so he thought. But when Edward complained Robert was stalwart and aggressive. Edward had never brought it up since. But he often dreamed about Princess Emma - picking her with her fine blonde hair and soft features. But sometimes he had nightmares that she was a beautiful mermaid, luring him to his death. Either way, he found himself worrying constantly over the woman even though the two had never been acquainted.

It was the one reason why, when he started down the Kingsroad to the Summerlands he debated on wheeling around and going back home. Edward was too flirtatious of a man to simply bend over to an arrange marriage. But his father and the Canty guard kept a wary eye on him. Sometimes Edward would look for a chance to escape, but then again, what if this Emma turned out to be the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life? It was possibilities like that that kept him a horse and with the group. He was far too curious to turn back now. Eventually, the name became music to his ears and he only prayed it would stay that way.

They arrived at Summer Palace earlier than expected, and the great caravan was greeted with great pompous and celebration. Edward had helped himself to some wine that the servants offered out as soon as they put their horses in the stables and set up tents for their guard. The castle was impressive, as was the hospitality that was given to them by King James and the Queen Snow White. Edward was flattered and proud. Or perhaps that was just the wine talking.

Though, he had sobered up when he was gripped at the elbow by his father and dragged along like a ragdoll in King James' steps. They proceeded to a large hall with a chair set on a pedestal where the Summerlands King perched. They spoke of armies and numbers, something that they completely understood but Edward didn't understand the context of. _It's like they're planning a war_, he thought to himself, curious beyond belief. But when the planning got a little intense, Robert turned to his son with steel grey eyes. "Why don't you go find Princess Emma, Edward? King James and I have pressing matters to speak of that you're not quite ready to hear yet." He blinked a few times and wondered how he'd find her, only for Snow White to tell him she was wearing a beautiful blue dress and her blonde wavy hair would be difficult to miss.

They closed the door behind Edward rudely as he set out into a massive crowd of celebration over the arrival of the Cantys. Many people tried to speak to him - recognizing him as a southernman by the light green clothes. Unfortunately for the Princess Emma, he wasn't wearing his best clothes and his hair was windswept, but he proceeded as suave as possible - which was very much - as if nothing hindered him.

Finding the Princess Emma was easy enough after the Queen had spoke of what she looked like and was wearing, though she was accompanied by someone Edward thought was her lady in waiting. Perhaps the Lady Dawn his father had mentioned, but he had no clue. Emma dismissed her, though, and Edward went in for the kill. He approached her from behind and placed a hand on the top of her back, stroking her shoulders gently. "Princess Emma," he said just loud enough for her to hear him over the noise of the hall. "This hall is too crowded, don't you think? Why don't we go to much... emptier quarters? I unfortunately don't know this castle all too well so I thought I'd pick the prettiest guide I could find." His eyes looked her over and he smiled his charming smile, walking in step with her until she decided to lead the way.

* * *

Not once had Emma ever been further south than the Summer Palace, nor had she ever felt the need to find a way to travel there. Her family needed her, and with her time spent at the Summer Palace slowly ticking away, she was in no hurry to explore her new home. She heard about the rebellious marsh tribes, but that was all she knew about the strange people beyond the castles walls. The horror stories had never really peaked her interest as a child, to be quite honest, but the gentlemen around her made her rather curious. Emma watched the other young Ladies standing about, flocking together as if they were hunting young Lords. She briefly wondered whether or not she would be in the same boat had she not been betrothed, but she quickly dismissed the thought; she would have never so desperately chased after any man.

Emma didn't mind being alone in a place that she was so familiar with, but she could not help but feel a rush of nerves flooding her when a grey-eyed boy that must have been a few years older than she was starting speaking to her. _'Princess Emma,'_ he said, causing her to look his way. _'Princess Emma,'_ he said just loud enough for her to hear him over the noise of the hall. _'This hall is too crowded, don't you think? Why don't we go to much... emptier quarters? I unfortunately don't know this castle all too well so I thought I'd pick the prettiest guide I could find."_' Her eyes widened as she felt his hand comfortably find spot on her lower back.

Emma eyed his dark hair and gray eyes, and knew instantly from his attire that he was a guest. He did not have the eyes from the Summerlands, nor the fair hair from the Western Woods. He did not have the blonde hair as her fellow court, and he was definitely not from the Enchanted Forest in those clothes. But from what House in the South, she was still unsure. Emma, not knowing where else she would turn, continued to let the boy guide her for the time being. He was surely mistaken if he thought he was going to lead her off so quickly. Though she did not let her face betray how nervous she felt, Emma often didn't feel as lost as she did now. She eyed his dark hair, slowly resting her gaze on his face. The older boy was handsome and his smiling quite winning, but there was a tone about him that helped Emma remain level headed.

"Thank you My Lord," Emma said politely to the young man. She clasped her hands together in front of her as she finally took direction. "But don't you think it rude for a Princess of the Kingdom to leave her honored guests when they have only just arrived?" Emma tried to crane her neck away from the hand rested on her shoulder as discreetly as she could. The only daughter of House White was not as comfortable with the foreigner as he appeared to be with her. "My Father would be most disappointed to find out his daughter ignored his house guest before they were even settled. Don't you agree?"

When Princess Emma denied him their leave, he removed his hand from her back and held them behind his back. He sighed mentally and looked at the lady with a fading smile, his grey eyes growing a little darker and darker. "I'm quite sure that King James will be returning shortly - my father and him were only planning to talk for a moment before diving into festivities." He shrugged and did as she wished - stayed in this crowded hall by her side despite how uncomfortable it made the Prince. His face remained unchanging though - looking as noble and handsome as ever.

Pity the Princess was so willing to keep to her duties. "Your father is quite generous for allowing us to stay here in The Summer Palace. It's beautiful up here, and the living spaces are quite comfortable. The solar the King and Queen gave me was almost too big for my tastes - I fear that I might get a bit lonely not hearing the calls of the marches cry throughout the night." He made no flirtatious act, but his tongue spoke his words eloquently and with fervor. Quite the romantic, it seemed. The years of chasing ladies had sharpened his tongue, and now was the perfect time to show off the blade. "And every man has their limits, I'm sure. Even my own father has proved testy at times when I toy with his limits. We're only human."

Emma could not deny the handsome features of the young man escorting her. Emma almost frowned at the boy's assumption that she would walk off with a stranger, but she knew most girls her age in attendance were looking for just that: a permanent reassurance that they would be married off. It held little to no interest for her at least. The Marshes were to be her home. There was high chance this man before her was her intended, but Emma was too cautious to be sure. The Canty's were not the only Noblemen invited to meet with her father and mother. Many brave and capable Lords of the southern region were with her father and King Robert Canty right now, while their traveling company eased the pain of their journey in this hall.

"My Father is a generous man, but even generous men have their limits," she smirked, clasping her hands in the folds of her dark blur gown. Emma looked towards the crowd once more in a last ditch effort to ensure her friend was behaving, but abruptly snapped her head back to the Lord. "My apologies, My Lord, but I've just realized that I never introduced myself. I beg your pardon for my impoliteness." Emma threw him a soft smile. "I'm Emma White from the Summerlands, and I am rather curious as to who you might be, if you don't mind sharing."

He stood in silence until Princess Emma turned back to him urgently. The introduction was unneeded on her part, and Edward wanted to whisper _'I know'_ into her ear. But for the sake of being polite and allowing her to feel comfortable, he remained silent until she questioned his name.

"I am Prince Edward Canty of Southern Marshes, first son to King Robert Canty, future heir to the Marshlands, and your betrothed thanks to your own father and mine." The Wild Prince, he would have tacked on. Future Warden of the South. "Forgive me if I've been rude," he said as he got to one knee and grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it gently, making eye contact all the while before getting back up to his feet. "But if you've heard about me, you'll know that my excitement sometimes gets the better of me." Ah yes, the Wild Prince, always following the whims of his strongest emotion. Good thing this woman was so rooted or else, perhaps, she might be doomed from the start.

Emma was surprised as the man dropped down to his knee before. Emma ignored the fleeting looks from those standing nearby, as well as the fluttering in her stomach as he lightly placed his lips upon her hand. "It's an honor to have you here Prince Edward," she said, bowing low before the heir of the Marshlands once he stood back up. Emma lifted her gaze just slightly to lock onto his own. "And a pleasure to finally meet you." She straightened herself, noticing how tall Edward was compared to her. She had always been tall for her age like her father before her, but Edward's stature was impressive.

She wanted to tell him that stories about Edward far exceeded her expectations, something that would either boost his already swelling confidence, or knock him down a peg or two. Edward was far more handsome than the descriptions Emma had heard from passing Ladies. The Cantys were nothing like the men around the Summerlands. Dark features, strong, serious builds, and had a roughness that was dangerously appealing where as Summerlands men seemed fair in comparison to the Southern visitors. He was different all right, but was different good?

They way he spoke and the way he carried himself put Emma on edge a bit. He spoke well, polite even, but there was something in his voice that put her on alert. There was an unidentifiable undertone to his message that caused the young Princess to be careful around him. "Stories only ever seem to tell half truths," Emma offered. "It's best not to trust others' words when you have the chance to see for yourself." What better way to know her future husband than to experience being around him herself? The people who told stories were not the ones who would be marrying Prince Edward, so the only opinion that matter on this case was her own now.

"At least that is what I hope people will consider if they ever come across stories about myself." She doubted that was the case. Emma never considered herself special enough to be considered news. If anything, her name was only mentioned due to her promised union to Edward. Or at least, she hopes that was the only news being said about her.

"I heard many good stories about you. How you're such a fine young lady and so beautiful from your own father. You live up to the expectations I had for you." Edward's own words could be half-truths if the Princess wasn't careful. He wasn't about to tell her about the dream he had of her being a man-eating mermaid who drowned him to death before he woke up.

A smirk appeared on Emma's face, which quickly transformed into a grin as he told her about her father's stories. "He may have a bias opinion," she laughed, trying her best to brush off the compliment and the slight blush it brought on. Emma never really viewed herself as a beautiful young woman. Fair, yes, certainly blessed with favorable features, but words like lovely and attractive felt wasted on her when she was in the presence of some of the other women in the Realm. She did not often trust strangers, and she did not enjoy getting to know them or affiliating with then in any way because they usually ended up disappointing her. Edward was quickly debunking all of her thinly crafted notions of what her southern husband would have been like.

The easy eyes of the boy beside her showed her comfort. Her father's stories must have caused some curiosity in the 'Wild Prince' as such things did for her. But, there was so much that people did not know about her to go repeating. Emma was amused, to say the least, at the way Edward reacted to her statement, and watched as Edward look out for something in the crowd. He appeared too polite and practiced with his words, though she did not doubt that he had a fury about him that could make one cringe more often than not. It certainly would be a sight to see, although she wouldn't be too personally inclined to be the cause of it. However, she did not picture Edward to be so…warm.

The cheer of the crowd drew her attention elsewhere. Emma was never really a fan of pomp and circumstance, as she could see no point in it, to be more than completely honest. As the Warden of the South and King and Queen of the Summerlands emerged, Emma fought back the urge to roll her eyes. King Canty – rigid, solid, and most serious in stature- was what Emma had pictured Edward to be like. Her own father looked almost childish in comparison to the man draped in light leather standing next to him. He was taller, thinner in frame, and his gentle smile made him look almost child like. She knew her father was strong in his own ways, but amongst the men of the South he looked easily breakable.

"Mother and Father seems happy with the outcome of their meeting," Emma mused. It would be sometime before she ever heard of the results from that council. Maybe Edward would have better luck knowing what they discussed behind closed doors. "So it seems I have been relieved of my hosting duties." She turned to Edward, planting a well-trained smile on her face as she faced his company alone. "Shall we?" Emma was secretly nervous being with Edward alone for the first time. She envisioned a time in their future where the two would be comfortable around each other, married with children and open enough to trust one another. Right now she was doing her best not to trip as she made her way through a sea of people.

Her eye caught Dawn, who had successfully found Pinocchio and Baelfire. Her lady in waiting gave her an inquiring look, darting her gaze between Emma and Edward. "My lady in waiting no doubt will be asking me about you," Emma smiled mischievously, nodding off in her friends' direction. "Though I'm sure she would have had enough sense to know you without introductions." Emma was still slightly embarrassed with herself that she had fumbled her first encounter with her betrothed. She had had an instinctual knowing that Edward was him, but had ignored it. Before clearing out of the room, Emma caught the look of her father's ward, the young Baelfire looking anything but pleased.

Dwn's presence was noticed since Edward had seen the two girls side by side earlier before Edward had stolen Emma for himself. He simply chuckled at her words - no doubt Emma would take him to be bombarded by the young Dawn as soon as they were finished with the tour. The young man that accompanied Dawn Edward did not know, but he did not appreciate the look that was passed between them. Edward's grey eyes darkened the way Robert's did when he grew very serious and threatening. Perhaps it was enough to scare the boy, but Edward lost sight of him before he could find out. "If they don't know me, I don't mind another round of introductions," he said simply, following dutifully by Emma's side, not at her back.

"And who was the young man with your Lady in Waiting who decided to give me a nasty scowl?" He was much more calm now, trying to stop himself from getting all worked up yet again.

Emma let out a small sigh at the mention of Baelfire. "That boy…" she treaded carefully around the subject of her father's ward. Edward did not need to know everything about him. She of course would not lie about who he was to her, but Emma thought it smarter to leave out Bae's opinions on Edward and Emma's union. "Baelfire, the young man next to Dawn, is my father's ward from the northern region. He is a bright boy who I have come to love as a brother." She spoke honestly of her feelings towards the ambitious ward. Since his arrival he had fallen into ranks with Dawn and Pinocchio, following around Emma as though she was a mother hen. And so Emma did what she was naturally good at, cherished him like any mother or sister would. "Dawn has become quite infatuated over him these past months."

"He sure didn't enjoy the look of me. I get the feeling just from his spiteful glare that he doesn't approve of me, and therefore his feelings don't reflect yours." As lackwit as Edward could be, there were times he could put two and two together. Edward could dare call the boy protective over his 'older sibling', but Edward didn't quite feel that way. There was a difference in the air around Baelfire that Edward could feel that was nothing like the air between himself and his sister. And protectiveness was more akin to worry than anger and jealousy. He shook his head slowly. "I think lovely Dawn should hop to it since I refuse to leave her empty handed." Ah yes, this romantic lordling had planned on stealing away Emma's heart before he returned to the marshes. How well that was going to go, though, was all up to the lovely Princess beside him.

Emma did the guiding, her target destination already set as she traveled with the Prince. Finding comfort in talking about her own friends, Emma directed the conversation to Edward, hoping to strike up something between the two other than awkward pleasantries. "I apologize for his behavior. The past year has brought about some very unhandsome changes in his moods. He had no right to make you feel uncomfortable. Bae knows better."

It took every ounce of Emma's will power to not playfully roll her eyes at Edward's comment about Dawn. "How very kind of you to take on such a task," she replied dryly. "Dawn will not feel the urge to resist such a plan." Poor Dawn. So much attention wasted on a boy who simply was not interested. He feigned interest, but Emma saw through the young man's farce. Dawn would move on, Emma prayed. The castle had much more to offer, and the tour was only beginning. Instead of showing Edward the boring chambers and kitchens and other mundane places, Emma lead him in the direction of the triangular keep. One of the greatest feats, it contained not only a large study but also a room devoted to studying the rivers. As she lead him up the stairs to the heavy wooden door of the study.

The guard opened the door to the study, and the smell of ancient books hit them. Emma thought it was a bit of a stale scent so she had the doors to one of the balconies opened. "My mother and father, quite the protectors, spends most of their time in here." she said with a smile. The room, with it's dark oak and rows of books was the most somber room in the castle. On the opposite wall, there was a massive stone table that served for military strategy and an even bigger map of entire Realm that covered the wall. "If I may be informal, they would always bring me up here and show me the books that pertained to my interests." she said, going over to a small section of the shelves that laid beneath several stone busts. "Along with the traditional subjects that a Princess is taught, I was educated specifically in customs and cultures of other lands." This may have been a bit too much information, but Emma decided to let that fact about herself come out. With a gallant father and devoted mother there was no need to wonder where she had got her traits from. Her green eyes scanned over the familiar crest, embedded in the wood of the door before looking back at the Prince. A soft wind blew through the room, sending the sleeves of her gown and her hair flowing softly. "Do I bore you yet My Lord?' she asked.

"You could never bore me, Emma."

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**Thanks for taking the time and expressing interest in my first ever story by reading along. I'm excited for the journey to unfold.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Holy reviews Batman! You guys are awesome. Everyone who reads, follows, favorites, and reviews...you are all awesome.**

**When a chapter says present day, it does not mean 2013. It simply refers to the fact the the chapter is taking place during the story's present timeline, which is where Emma is with Regina and 28. Though in this chapter it is mostly more sexy time. Also, sorry in advance this is a good 1,000 words short than the last two chapters. I try to stay between 4,000-5,000 an update. (Also updates are quicker now due to the fact that some of the chapters are already done. It will not always be this quick with new chapters going up.)**

**Disclaimer: I own no rights associated with Once Upon A Time. I am simply borrowing the characters. All mistakes are my own.**

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_Present Day: Emma, Age Twenty Eight_

Emma felt her wife's grin against her skin and was not completely thrown off guard when she felt the woman shift to rest on top of her. Though Regina's lips moved somewhat quickly over hers, Regina's fingers were still slow at the back of her neck. The sight the Queen beheld on top of the furs of their bed was enough to put any woman's heart to rest, and as Regina put her lips to one of the dove-soft swells of a breast, she had to remind herself to keep breathing lest she completely faint from her awe. The Queen had always took joy in laying her eyes upon Emma this way, and even those moments they spent in the dark, unused solar couldn't compare to what she held now. Her heart had come to her ears as her mouth drifted closer and closer to Emma's nipple, Regina's hands roaming weightlessly up her back until coming to push the blonde closer against her.

Emma might have protested the moment. Perhaps she should have. But Regina's lips were quick and hungry against hers. It truly seemed the action that required immediate focus. Emma's mind didn't turn to her fingers at the back of her neck. Her breath hitched in her throat as Regina's head moved down, lips finding the exposed swell. A sensation was beginning to build between her thighs. Emma wanted to press her legs together, find some friction. But there was no friction with Regina straddling her thighs as she was. Of their own accord, her hips rolled down into the Queen's, searching for what she couldn't give herself right now.

By the time Regina's lips came to form ever so preciously over Emma's nipple, encouraging it to perk for the Queen's attention, Regina had already begun to feel how wet her wife was for her. Her thoughts were racing but Emma remained clear and certain, and even though she could hear her own blood coursing through her veins, she could hear Emma's, too, and it only assured her of her efforts as Regina's mouth wandered to the midst of her sternum. The Queen could feel Emma's heart pound just beneath her lips. Regina brought her mouth to Emma's and captured her once more in a fiery, passionate kiss. Their tongues danced and already the brunette's breath began to labor, mirroring the sound of her wife. While eagerness and anxiety both plagued Regina, nearly overwhelmed her, Regina stilled her tanned hands from trembling and kept her movements from going too quickly, too harshly, for not even the gods would find the Queen so wasteful and so careless.

The first time they'd been in this position, there had been the cover of darkness for comfort. It was almost easier to be bold in the darkness, where none could see. The world might almost be what you imagined, rather than reality. Where you were free to paint a pretty picture and suppose things were different. But there were no secrets or misgivings in this moment – figuratively or literally. Everything was on the table, and the moon was shining brightly through the windows. Heart, soul, and everything underneath, Emma was bared to Regina. It was more than just a lack of covering to the waist. It was everything. It took a different kind of strength to be confident. It took the strength to trust another person with everything. Regina had promised her a crown when she was eighteen that she didn't want, and kingdoms she didn't know what to do with. Emma had to trust Regina's vow and the impossibility that it would all turn out the way they hoped. Emma had been so naïve to doubt Regina when she was young. But she had been a different person then.

It was different with Regina. With _him_ they'd been alone in that room she remembered feeling her mind and good sense slip out the window. She couldn't bring herself to care, though she knew, deep down, she was being a fool. But this was different. She was in full possession of her senses, and they were all in agreement. She wanted this. She needed this. What was more, Emma trusted Regina, and this idea that she'd never even considered before meeting the Queen. Emma never toyed with the idea of being Queen herself when she was younger. She never toyed with the idea of power. It simply wasn't something she'd ever craved. But she embraced it now. This was her life. Regina was her life. Where the crown was concerned, Emma had taken the title with a grain of salt, and she knew it. But she could never doubt Regina. The only Queen she needed was her.

"Gods," Regina breathed, the Queen's darken eyes raking hungrily -though albeit still somehow kindly- over the body of her wife underneath her. Regina's expression seemed almost enchanted as she drank in the sight of her Commander in Arms, her hands roaming lightly over the dips of her waist, the curve of her ribcage and the bottom swells of her breasts, adoring all she saw, all she touched, cherishing it as Emma had cherished her. Which gods did she have to thank for the masterpiece that was Emma Swan? A smirk came to her lips at the thought, watching her hands as they continued to roam across Emma and to her thighs, squeezing the muscled milky flesh until she almost feared she could no longer control himself. Faced with the future war against the Summerlands, it was Emma Swan that threatened the Evil Queen's resolve on all matters. A woman! _The_ woman, she reminded himself. _Her Savior_, the mother of their child, and her other half. And if the tales were true... the soothsayers and their fires believable... the Queen who was promised would finally come. Never mind what others may have wondered or rumored, she knew even the most skeptical in her Kingdom had come to love her wife just as they feared their Evil Queen. Even her late father, dear father, would forgive her and find ways to cope, if not accommodate completely. They all would, and they would all do it happily. For her. For the realm.

Even now, never once did she let go of Emma, too enamored with the feel of her bared skin, the look of her exposed, to ever let a moment find them separated. Once she was settled a top her wife, Regina quickly pulled her close again, sighing heavily at the way her breasts felt against her own. Though Regina hailed from the north and its frosty keeps, nothing about her was cold when she was with her wife, not her skin, not the heart she had finally found herself in, and certainly not the reaches between her thighs... reaches, too, Regina hoped to soon find herself within. "Are you sure about this?" Regina finally asked, her voice just above a whisper. The question laced with double meaning as she still feared Emma's conviction for war. Regina fell quiet in wait of Emma's response, her eyes boring into the green depths of her wife's. So many things depended on her reply, she was almost afraid to hear it... but despite the complete lack of love for her parents, Regina could hurt Emma, or she could come to regret every decision she'd ever made with her... and while she yearned to hear her cry out her name, she dare not risk hearing it masked with pain or anger...

"I could never regret a moment between us, and I shan't start now." Emma concluded without reservation. Her fingers had settled on Regina's bare chest. Her fingertips skimmed over Regina's own nipples, barely touching. Green eyes finally settled back on Regina's, as her hands left her bared torso. One hand moved around her own back, fingers weaving into Regina's. "I need to feel you love." She almost begged. The hand around Regina's guided her fingers to Emma's side, her gaze shifting on the Queen as she led a palm to the side of the swell of her breast. "Please?" She implored. The word was barely above a whisper, spoken against Regina's lips as she leaned in, attempting to lure her into another kiss.

As of her time after the birth of her son, her entire experience with carnal matters started and ended with her moments in Regina's arms. Beyond that there was only imagination, and hers did not need to look further than her wife. When they had first lain together she had needed to know that Regina didn't intend to cast her aside after this, and she had the Queen's word. On rare occasion she needed Regina to remind her that this was real.

Was there any possible way to express what it was Regina felt for Emma, and all the things she had in mind? What of all that it took to bring them here, everything more than just a simple laurel of blue winter roses? That was the easy part. Now, though, it seemed the Queen yearned to tremble at her very core, so anxious and hesitant at the same time, she was near imploding. The Queen closed her eyes and lost herself within Emma's embrace. Her gentle whispers of encouragement, followed by a soft, uttered plea, Regina had no choice but to oblige... not as if she _wanted_ a choice, anyway, for as the Queen put her lips once more to the upper swell of a bared breast, she knew it would already be made for her. By her guidance, Regina's hand was led to the dove soft mound and with a gentle, passionate squeeze, all thoughts concerning the Summerlands, Snow White and her driveling husband, her kingdom, the war... they all melted and gave way only to Emma Swan.

"For you, my love," she muttered deeply, blood red lips trailing across Emma's collarbone and to the side of her neck. "Anything." Eyes turning to Emma, she dipped her head, long dark hair curtaining the blonde beneath her and kissed her once more. A slight, subtle shudder crept up her spine beneath Emma's touch, threatening her resolve and the restraint she had from moving too quickly, too excitedly... but with a long, half-shaky sigh, Regina slowly brought her hand down across Emma's chest and past her toned stomach. Immediately she was met with the contact of her innermost thighs, the soft flesh grazing just past Regina's fingers and making her even wetter in anticipation. There was no comparison to the genuine jolts of lightning she felt in Emma's embrace. This had every bit of herself strung to it, her thoughts, her emotions, her body and soul... every bit of them guided two fingers slowly inside of her wife. Regina's claim on Emma switched as the blonde boldly reversed the two's positions.

Immediately it seemed the Queen began to tremble, if just barely, beneath Emma. Her core rattled inside her as her fingers gained careful entry within the blonde, letting Emma use her own weight against the Queen to decide how far she went. The dark golden line of Emma's eyebrows had risen upwards upon penetration, but had now fallen as her lids suddenly became heavy and closed over his green eyes in her ecstasy. The heart in Regina's chest thundered and hammered against her ribcage, in her ears, and for a moment, she wasn't even sure which heartbeat was which as Regina slipped her free arm around her waist and pressed her fingertips into the flesh of Emma back and shoulder blades. Resting her forehead against the gap between Emma's breasts, Regina's eyes almost squinted shut as she felt her wife tease her own entrance, as if warding off any urge to suddenly burst in untamed passion. Regina's jaw grit as Emma slowly pressed further inside of her, sighing loudly once the base of Emma's hand met her pelvis. The Queen shuddered and sighed again. _She is yours,_ the sounds of the room seemed to whisper, met with another of Regina's soft groans. _You are hers._

Emma was a captive of Regina's touch and will. But this was different. She was calling the shots. She was the one with freedom of movement. She was the one with the ability to drive Regina inside of her. She would have gone faster. Part of her wanted to. But it was the look on her wife's face that drove her to sink slowly onto her fingers.

It was tight. There was no doubt about that. But the wetness budding between her thighs eased the penetration. It was easy to imagine why other females might hesitate, or still. If they were afraid to begin with, if their body didn't react properly, this could well be uncomfortable. But Emma wasn't most females, and she wasn't afraid. What was there to fear? Emma knew pain. The pins and needles sting on the bottom of her feet, as she ran barefoot through the snow. The bruise of a practice sword, as Gendric clumsily struck her. The bit of steel after she'd been stupid enough to pick up a real blade for the first time. The agony of her moons blood twisting her insides. No, Emma was no stranger to pain. How was this so different.

Emma gasped softly, feeling her innermost muscles clenching tight around Regina, her fingers biting into tanned shoulder for a moment, and she stilled. Regina's hips were flush against hers, now. For a few long breaths, Emma just stared at her wife, gauging her expression, drinking in the knowledge that this was all her doing. Then, experimentally, she shifted her hips, rolling them in slow circles – getting a feel for how it affected her, more than the Queen. Slowly, a flush crept up her neck as Regina's hand rubbed against her. Her fingers tightened on Regina's shoulder, even as her walls clenched around her wife's fingers. Slowly, she pulled away, lifting herself further onto her knees, before sliding back onto Regina.

It was many years ago that Emma came to decide that she rather liked calling the shots. There was a pleasure she'd never known to be found in setting the rhythm, rather than be subject to another's pace. After a period of experimentally rolling and shifting her hips around Regina, she set into a pace that reminded her uncannily of riding a horse -an odd connection in such a moment. Perhaps it was the way the movement rolled through her whole torso, or the feel of the pants still clinging to her hips, chafing against her thighs. It almost reminded her of a saddle. She'd always hated saddles. She rode bareback, fearless and unrestrained. They all said she must be half horse herself. So maybe it wasn't so strange that her mind made the connection.

Regardless of the connections being made in that moment, it felt _incredible_. Her breathing was slowly growing ragged, little gasps escaping her as she found a particularly appealing spot. Her hips would roll more quickly, eagerly against Regina, trying to regain that friction, but it was already lost. It was almost maddening. There was still that slight sting of pain, hinting at something better that she couldn't quite reach - holding her back.

Regina gasped as her wife took control, her fingers only going where they wanted, but Emma controlled everything right now. She had awakened something in the blonde and she was about to receive exactly what she had wanted moments ago. A particularly deep thrust and her hand against Emma's hip gripped against her skin so tight. "Emma!" the Queen practically growled out. The pride in her voice clear even in the mist of the women's haze.

Emma's body was on fire, every part of her almost felt painful as she came hard against Regina's hand. Emma slowed her bucking, barely moving except for the hand that moved within her wife. It did not take long for Regina to follow her wife for the second time that night. Emma lowered herself on top of her Queen, her head kissing the crook of her wife's neck as she nuzzled against her skin. "You are so beautiful."

Regina's was panting along with her wife, tracing her fingers along Emma's cheek, down to her neck, her chest, and then her arms, where she moved to lace their hands together. She kissed Emma gently, tenderly as she complimented on her beauty, and she only smirked, keeping their hands locked together. "The fairest of them all," she teased. "I love you." Regina leaned in to place a kiss upon Emma's lips, lingering just enough before she began to feel her own drowsiness seep in.

"And I love you," Emma whispered, all the worry leaving her as she shut the world out under heavy lids. She smiled contently at the warmth of Regina's body against her and finally allowed herself to drift off. Within minutes the their breathing had evened out.

* * *

"If he were going to come, he would have done it already." Emma insisted. There were lips at Regina's throat. Regina shifted in her grasp, squirming in an attempt to get away. But she only ended closer than before. Emma's arms were on either side, effectively pinning her in place. She could feel her lips traveling up her neck, towards her jaw. For a moment, she tipped her head back. Whether unable or unwilling to deny Emma, she didn't know. Emma's lips had just found her earlobe when the Queen caught herself, turning her face towards Emma, her cheek brushing Emma's strong jaw.

"You sound entirely to sure about that, love." Regina purred. It wasn't a rejection. Far from it. She shifted closer to the blonde – her action willing this time. "Perhaps he got distracted. Perhaps Henry finally heard news of your return?" She suggested. "How upset would you be if he _did_ show up?" Emma's face had finally pulled far enough away that Regina could lean in and capture her lips. She pressed a slow kiss to Emma's lips. It was gentle and unassuming, but Emma was having none of that. Propping herself up with one arm, the other weaved into Regina's loose curls, holding her lips to her own as Emma deepened the kiss.

Once more, Regina squirmed, a chuckle bubbling out of her. "If he does, I'll tell him to go back to bed. My wife is quite occupied at the moment. I've great need of her. Next time he should sleep in to an acceptable morning hour, like a normal boy should," Emma insisted firmly. Emma was a very serious person when the time called for it. She was the one that enforced Regina's rule with an iron fist. She _was_ terrible at setting her foot down and being the stern parent though for Henry. Emma being stern in this moment only served to bring a grin to the Queen's face. Regina's arms snaked around Emma as one knee settled at the blonde's hip.

"Do you, now?" She inquired in a tone with very little argument left in it. Emma shifted closer, leaning down to kiss her wife once more. Regina was just staring to give up on the notion of prior commitments when the door opened. At the sound of Henry's voice a cloud of purple smoke enveloped the two women, clothing them both in luxurious robes. Emma buried her face in the pillow, as peals of laughter escaped Regina. Her arms tightened around Emma, fingers combing through her light curls soothingly as she turned her face. Regina pressed a kiss to the only part of Emma's face she could access – her cheek. But Henry was already rushing forward to greet his mothers.

"Remind me never to argue with you, in the future." Emma griped, once she finally pulled her face out of the pillow. There was a slight disappointed frown on her face as she stared down at Regina. But Emma was already easing away from her. With deft fingers, she smoothed her robe before helping Regina to her feet.

"I always do. But we both know you never listen to me." Regina answered with a grin. She leaned up on her toes to kiss Emma once more, before pushing her chest with both hands. Her strength wasn't enough to make Emma go far, but she complied easily enough. Emma smiled, giving into her urging, and turned away. Regina was a step behind her as a mop of brown hair came in view. "Momma!" There was a shuffling as a small force knocked into the front of the Commander in Arms.

A mess of brown hair was the first to peak up from the hug before the boy stood next to her completely. "Hello," the greeting was low, sounding more like a squeak of a mouse then the powerful Prince he would become. _Just one more year_, Emma promised herself. _One more year than she'd make a warrior out of him yet_. "I missed you Momma." An amused look broke out across his features and Emma turned her body towards her son to gently take Henry's chin in a warm hand. She slowly lifted the boy's head in her hand and the boy's smile widened at the loving look his mother gave him.

"And I missed you Henry. Every day was harder than the next without the two people I cherish more than anything." Emma's hand left his cheek to ruffle his hair. It had grown out a bit in the month that she had left, almost covering his ears completely at this point. "And did our brave Prince protect his Mother while I was away?"

The boy responded with an eager nod that threatened to knock his head clear off his neck. "Yes Momma, I made sure nothing bad happened to Mother while you were away. Are you proud of me Momma?" Henry was rewarded with a deep chuckle and a tight squeeze as Emma wrapped an arm around the eleven year olds shoulder.

"Always."

Regina watched the exchange between mother and son in silence, her face giving away nothing of what she might be thinking. Henry was just as much her son as he was Emma's. She cared for him the same as Emma the minute he was brought into this world. But one day their sweet boy he had to learn. He wouldn't be a boy forever. Best he learn how to be a man now, so he would be prepared when the time came. There was no room for softness in the Dark Palace outside of their family.

Once, Regina's heart would have broken at that statement. Once, years ago when she had been little more than a child herself. Such sentiments no longer resided within her, however. Any softness she had once possessed had long since been scoured out of her. That had been as inevitable as the changing of the tides, she saw now. Those that did not adapt would perish. Regina had no intentions of her family perishing before she was damn good and ready to. Her own hand came to rest upon Henry's shoulder and Emma's hand as she leaned down to his level. Gently, she placed a kiss upon the tops of his cheek, and savored the sound of his giggle, for that too would be replaced one day.

* * *

**Uh, grooming Henry to be evil in the future? Yes. ****Thanks for taking the time out of your day and expressing interest in my story.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Emma visits the Marshlands. Some age clarifications for the chapter. Edward is twenty and Baelfire is eighteen. Also I think I might be in the market for a beta reader to just lend a critical eye to this story. I'll be the first to admit that my spelling is certainly not great, even after proofreading twice through a chapter things will slip through the cracks. I'm more of a 'big picture' type of worker. Shoot me a message if anyone is interested.**

**Disclaimer: I own no rights associated with Once Upon A Time. I am simply borrowing the characters. All mistakes are my own.**

* * *

Flashback: Emma, Age Sixteen

The Southern Marshes. Everything was so different. The Southern Marshes seemed larger, darker, than anything Emma had ever seen. She sighed. Was it really hotter here, she wondered, or was it her imagination? After the airy forests and rushing waters of the Summerlands, the Marshes seemed humid, gray, foggy. As the carriage approached the walls of the Marshland Keep, the horses grew quiet, as if they knew the significance of this place. Here, Emma would soon begin her life anew one day; she would take up her life as the Queen of the Marshlands.

Her father had said it would be good to know Edward Canty. She was not sure why her father said such things. Baelfire had led the small party and Emma was grateful for his company. Baelfire had always held a special place in her heart, sometimes teaching her things that she had thought no need for. Her father's ward had though taught her to fish properly, and she remembered his hands, and the way he laughed when she fell backwards, onto the ground.

They had traveled through woods, the small party of five, woods so humid that even Emma's lightest clothes could not keep the muggy weather out of her bones. So far she did not like the feel of the Southern lands. Too bleak and void of any color. Grays. Endless grays crept into greens and browns of the trees and the blues of the rivers. The sky was so hazy some days that Emma has trouble seeing the sun. The words of House Canty rang through her ears during the weeks of travel. _With Fire Comes Heat._ Emma thought she understood such an obvious statement when she was younger but now she knew why such a phrase could be so terrifying. Summer in the South was already eerie enough for the young Princess. Heat was turning out to be a deadly enemy. And how would Emma White, daughter of a land of cool air and light, feel about the Marshlands?

Many things had changed during the last two months. She wore a gown of green, the fabric somehow woven so that hints of gold rippled through it when she moved. Emma's blonde hair, braided, flowed down her back like a river. Her eyes, as green as the lands she had left behind, shone as she looked out her window. As out of place as she felt around such a new place, she did her best to hold fast. The nerves she had meeting Edward at the Summer Palace were now reserved for the rest of the Canty family. Gone was her Septa, left behind to look after Dawn, not that Emma had ever relied on her much growing up. A young girl such as her needed no guidance in such matters anymore.

Things had not been quite as she had imagined them when she was younger, whispering and giggling with Dawn as they made their future plans. In their youthful minds, their husbands had been tall and broad-shouldered, winners of tourneys and battles, brave and fierce and full of passion. She held a pendent in her hand, fashioned to look like that of a swan. A swan upon a metal pin and her fingers rubbed at the surface as though it would tell her how her family was at the Summer Palace. Was this what life held for her now? A marriage of duty and politics, cold and devoid of passion or love? Would she love Edward, or would her warmth be eaten up by the gray of the South? Whatever the case, she would have to deal with things as best she could. She was a Princess; she must honor her family, and do her duty. But still she worried, and she hoped. And she would be a wife to be proud of. She would find her place here, and show these grim southerners how a woman of the Summerlands did her duty.

The carriage rattled through the gates and drew to a stop in the courtyard. Baelfire opened the door and held out his hand to her. "Here Emma." She took it, and let him help her down. He seemed smaller somehow, older, tired. Or maybe she was just taller now. When she reached the ground, Emma heard him take a deep, ragged breath, then he murmured, "Welcome home I suppose."

Emma gave him confidant a cold glare, or as much as she could muster for her beloved friend, before smiling at his good nature. Yes, she would find her place here one day in the future. She would do her duty. And she would bring the warmth of the Summerlands, of family, to this humid land of the South.

* * *

Edward could remember meeting Princess Emma for the first time. How he had attempted to whisk her away with his boyish charms before actually talking to her and enjoying conversation. He could remember the dreams he had before he'd ever seen her beautiful face - where Emma had been a beautiful siren that sang to him before drowning him in the river that she lived beside. But, it had been a while since he had seen here again, and her arrival made his heart skip a beat, though he didn't show it at all. He was a man, a soldier, a Prince. He must be as stiff as steel.

As a child, Edward used to climb to the highest points of the Marshlands Keep to look down the Kingsroad. But he was a man grown, and grown men didn't climb unless they were laying siege to the Evil Queen from the other side of the realm. And so he remained rooted to the ground within the walls, impatiently - though feigning patience - awaiting the Princess's arrival.

He woke up earlier for the affair, planning on meeting the Princess and her caravan before his own father decided to show. He was glad his betrothed had made the journey down here. Perhaps she would enjoy it as much as he did, but how could someone from the north appreciate the beauty of the Marshlands and the south? He sighed as he slipped out of bed, ringing for anyone who was up to aid him in dressing. His clothing was typical Marshlands garb - the light grays and browns that marked every southern man for what they were. His tunic was light brown with silver buttons, and his breeches gray with brown boots. On his shoulders hung his light cape with green, gray and brown designs sewn onto it and clasped around his neck with a silver snake pendent. For him, it was fancy dress, though surely his betrothed looked much more pleasant. _Her beauty makes up for what I lack,_ he told himself as he swiftly left his solar for the gates.

Emma watched as Edward made his way over towards the small party. Emma could see the haste in his step and couldn't not decide if it was excitement or the heat that ushered him forth so quickly. Dressed in garb she had seen but once –her first meeting with Edward- his clothes reminded her of the woods she had been traveling through. Everything looked so light in weight on his body, but the Canty boy made no show of it effecting his movements. "Prince Edward," Emma dipped her head low in respect to the older boy, "The South has treated you well since we last spoke."

He had planned to get there before she had arrived, but it appeared as though she beat him there. She was being helped out of her carriage and Edward thought about running to help her out, but the boy Baelfire, the ward, beat him to it. Instead, he approached the caravan with warmth and welcome. "Princess Emma," he breathed with a smile, his eyes looking her up and down before he grabbed for her hand, kissing the back of it as he bent the knee.

In fact, time itself had seemed to favor Prince Edward Canty. The two months apart had brought upon some changes for the two young nobles. Emma was no longer struggling between the image of adolescent and young woman. Time had done away with the awkward gangly appearance she still suffered from during their last meeting. She was looking more like her mother with every passing day. Edward as well had seen changes in his appearance as far as Emma could observe. His shoulders looked as though they had filled at since they last time she had seen him. Or maybe it was the amount of clothing that gave him the image? No, time had brought changes towards both of them. Edward was already at the age where men had proved themselves in battle or in court, and Emma rushed towards womanhood with a certain grace she had been inherently born with.

For Edward there were much more important things at hand - such as his betrothed standing in front of him, likely sweating in this weather. But, she seemed warmed, and her words even more so. Had he truly looked better with age? He never paid much mind to it, though he had vaguely noticed how his muscles had grown and he had gotten a bit taller. Emma, too, had grown an inch since Edward last found himself in the Summerlands. She filled out her clothes more - maturing into a woman that he had planned on spending the last of his days with. Why, he surely wouldn't mind, especially after his gray eyes looked her over and took her in. He couldn't help but smile a little. "I believe time has done us both justice, my lady. You look gorgeous as always." He remembered his failed attempts at wooing her, and though Edward hadn't changed much, holding his tongue and morphing his words into more eloquent phrases and sentences was something he had expanded on and done much better in. This time as the two ran into each other, she wouldn't be disappointed.

When he finished, Edward turned to the ward, his smile diminishing into a on sight. "Lord Baelfire," he said, placing a fist to his chest and bowing slightly. "It's an unexpected …honor to have you in out House. I hear many things about you from the Princess in her letters." It was hard for Edward to seem a lordly as possible. He wanted to smack the grin right off of the peasant's face - _the ward is standing right here! Right here! The Gods have surely damned me!_ - but he refrained with a relaxed smile. At least Edward was good at putting up a facade.

"We haven't officially met. I am Edward Canty," he spoke, informing the ward mostly, and anyone else he hadn't be acquainted with. "As Robert's son, I speak in his absence and welcome you all to the Marshlands! Please, make yourselves at home. We'll see to your bags and make sure they're placed in your chambers. We have ample room and an ample feast this evening. You must be tired from your journey - let me fetch some squires to show you to your chambers to rest. My father should be arriving shortly. My own excitement let me rise before him, which is strange I assure you." Edward laughed to himself before coughing and falling into silence.

It was not long before Robert exited into the courtyards of his Keep, the Summerlands entourage and even his son already there to grace him. He smiled as he approached, hands clasped behind his back. "No man rises before the King of the Marshlands," he spoke above his heir, his voice loud and almost booming once he came up behind his eldest son. A smirk toyed across his slightly unshaven lips as he turned towards both the Princess Emma and the ward that had come with her, a dip of his chin to greet them both. "No matter his excitement."

Before Emma could speak, an impressive voice rang out in the courtyard. The suddenness combined with the sheer power caused a sharp intake of breath. Flushed by how easily startled she was, Emma's hands busied themselves in her sleeves, working around her decorated pin once more. Robert Canty was an impressive man from far away which was the only time the young girl had been able to steal a glance at the Warden of the South years ago. Having him so close, Emma thought she was standing near a mountain personified. Solid, confident, a perfect blend of regal and rugged. Edward's father had playfully dwarfed him in size and in jest with a simple remark. Now this was the Lord of the Marshlands Baelfire had told stories about on their trip to the South.

Edward's mouth opened as if to say something else, but the second it did his father's voice echoed through the courtyard. Edward's shoulders went stiff and his father came up behind him. With the two in close proximity it was easy to seem the resemblance - their bodies were similar, their facial structure even more so. The only difference, besides obviously age and status, was how summers had worn on Robert more so than Edward. Robert was the cold, stalwart man of the South who only showed compassion for family and company behind the Marshlands Keep's walls, while Edward was wild, untamed, and often times too merciful for his own good.

"Father," Edward said quickly, moving out of his way and turning to face him with a smile. Though, the boy was irked by his father's entrance, he attempted to play it off with stiff shoulders and his hands clasping behind his back as if the boy was his father's mirror. "My apologies I just -" He would have continued by he was cut off by greetings, and thus the Prince simply dove into silence, his face becoming strikingly serious.

"Ah, my dear Princess Emma," he reached forth and placed a surprisingly warm kiss to her slender knuckles. "And Lord Baelfire... an honor." Robert offered another noble dip of his chin before extending an arm to the great castle behind him. "As my son so graciously said, welcome. And yes, please, make yourselves right at home." The look in others' eyes when Robert spoke those very words still never got old to him. The Marshlands was nothing in comparison to anything northerners knew... and they all probably thought him a fool to think this could be seen as anything remotely close to a home. _Oh, but they will see._

Baelfire gave both men a respectful nod, his head dipping lower for the head of the house, though he had no true desire to show them such respect. "Seems like my name's been spread around," Baelfire lightly joked to the Canty boy. "It has been quite some time since I've set foot in the Sorth. My memory has failed to remind me of the lengths of your warm climate." Emma too felt the sting of the South settling in her bones, though embarrassment kept her from speaking up. "Forgive me, but I must see to our things. If you'll excuse me Your Majesty," Baelfire turned towards his Princess, gently resting his hand on her shoulder. "Emma, you're father would be most unhappy if he found out I foolishly neglected you here in the South. Head inside with King Robert while I fetch us some more appropriate attire." With a parting nod towards the Canty men, Baelfire worked his way back to the carriage, pointing at something tucked towards the back as he commanded one of the Summerland travelers.

Robert reserved a smirk for himself as he turned to lead them into the warmth of the castle, the spring water in the walls almost giving the entire keep a gentle, moistened smell... almost like rain. But the smells of the cooking kitchens overwhelmed most everything as they neared the Great Hall. "Let me guess, son, you have not slept a single wink?" Robert smiled a teasing smile as they walked. "Much too excited for our Princess's arrival?"

It took Emma a few seconds to regain her poise in front of Edward's father. It was the brushing of his lips against her hand that reminded her of her manners. Dipping low in respect towards the Noble King, Emma finally found her voice. "Your Majesty, the honor is ours." Straightening out once more, Emma finally allowed herself to look upon King Robert's own eyes. Gray. Just as Edwards's were and as warm as such a color would allow as the great King seemed to be in a pleasant mood. "We are grateful to you King Robert for opening up the gates of your Keep to our modest party. It is an honor to be welcomed into your home and we hope to not be an burden to your family."

The dark gray eyes of King Robert almost glistened upon the freshened face of Princess Emma. Snow and James had done well by his only child, and not a shred of disappointment had been packaged and shipped to him now. Of course, when had Emma White ever been a disappointment? He had seen her once, maybe twice as a young girl, and even then she was a blonde-haired gem of the Summerland King and Queen. Robert had smiled upon her then and he smiled upon her now, but the gaze he turned towards his son once they began traveling towards the castle was not exactly... soft. It hardened with something akin to amusement and once they passed through the walls of the Keep, a small smirk played at the corners of Robert's unshaven lips.

Her nerves around the great Robert Canty trumped even her nerves around Edward when they were in the Summerlands. Edward was here though, and the thought warmed her heart as they made their way inside. Perhaps the halls of the Keep would help cool her body as well. "I must admit sleep has escaped me as well as we drew near," Emma said. "The Marshlands have been invading my dreams ever since we crossed Myrna's Fork and found ourselves on the King's Road." There was some excitement to be had for Emma White in this trip, even with the guilt she had towards living her friends behind. If Emma was being totally honest, the Marshlands were not the only thing she had been dreaming of. Edward Canty had found himself in a dream of two of hers. That though would be her on little secret.

When Edward's father turned to lead the party inside, Edward followed right in his footsteps. He remembered when he was a child how big Robert's steps were, and how difficult they were to follow exactly. It made him shake to think of it sometimes, but as the boy grew into a fine young man, he had little issues. The metaphor itself was backwards, though - for in childhood, Edward had always dreamed of being Warden of the South, but as reality drew closer and closer, he shook at the mere thought sometimes. Nevertheless, he adjusted his cloak about his shoulders more as he followed.

"No dreams of our fine Princess Emma?" He quipped, keeping his eyes forward even as his son drifted back to the side of his betrothed. Chuckling beneath his breath, Robert placed his hand on the hilt of his sword; he did not have his great sword today across his back, but instead of a white pommeled sword of fine castle forged steel was slung to his black leather belt. He walked comfortably as he led them towards the Great Hall, still smirking as he listened to Edward.

Edward let his father's quip fall on deaf ears. He would pay him no mind if he were to pull jokes such as this. Edward was a man grown, in no desire to joke around over embarrassing subjects with his solid father. Yet, he did smile slightly. Perhaps Princess Emma had appeared in his dreams the night before, but that was pillow talk for another night. _Yes, I dreamt of her father. To see how time affected her beauty, to see if she would be as smart and kind as she was back then. A man cannot help but dream of his betrothed. Did you not do the same with Mother?_ But his lips remained sealed.

When Robert spoke, Edward's head rose slightly. "I actually slept fairly well, no doubt to your surprise. She had no effect on my sleep aside from how early I went to my chambers and how early I rose." Edward smirked slightly.

The back and forth between the Canty boys, correction: men, was entertainment at it's highest. Oh Emma was going to lock this night in her mind for the rest of her life. And when she was backed into a corner with her own father's embarrassing act in front of the Cantys she would retreat back to this memory and know she was not alone. The echo of _'Our Little Emma'_ rang clear as a bell as she thought of the easiest way for Queen Snow to undermined her 'mature presence' she had worked so hard to build. The Gods help her if her father started recalling stories of her youth to match with the colorful tales of King Robert. Emma fought back the chuckle threatening to come out. Instead she cast Edward an encouraging look, silently letting him know she felt his pain. Even if she was enjoying it.

As they came to the oversized wooden doors of the Great Hall, Robert reached forth as if to push through them, but paused to glance over his shoulder. "By this evening, dear Princess, you may find yourself with many a toasts from many a lords and knights within. We are a hospitable bunch," he mentioned, flashing a subtle wink to his son and his betrothed before finally pushing through the heavy pair of doors. They creaked and groaned and echoed through the hall, and only for a single moment's time did the noise pause and heads turn towards the entrance. No great charade was put forth to welcome Robert and his heir, no lords stood from their seats to bow or kneel, and as the Warden of the South strode down the main aisle and patted a few of his knights on their backs, Robert was lucky to get a raise of a few chalices from them. This is how it was in the South, and this was how he liked it. His men would fall on their blades if he commanded them, he did not need his knuckles kissed or his shadow to be followed. He'd rather a man try and break Robert's fingers than kiss them.

As his father opened the doors to the Great Hall, Edward had expected nothing different. Robert was an easy man. He didn't expect fanfare at his appearance. Just respect when he desired it. Edward was quite the opposite as a child, but the older he grew the more he understood his father's desires. It was tiresome to have men cheer every time they say your face. The silence was welcoming, but the glares were not. This Prince was territorial, and for every glance Princess Emma got, Edward reciprocated with a glare, making men advert their eyes. Yes, Emma was beautiful, but she was not there's to look at. Call him selfish if anyone wished, he wouldn't change his mind.

Emma White, however, did not get quite as an aloof acknowledgement. Heads turned and eyes followed her every move, and some even smirked at Edward as they passed them and made way towards where the Canty family sat. Taking his place at his great antlered chair, Robert called for wine to be served and outstretched an arm to the two empty places beside him. "Edward may not be able to eat on account of his nerves," he smiled, "but the South can fill you for days, Princess Emma, especially after such a long trip."

The walk through the Hall was long, and when Edward finally got to his seat, he was relieved. Ale arrived shortly, and Edward gripped his cup and took sips as soon as it arrived. Too early to drink? Never. But he wouldn't over do it. This wasn't an outing with his men, this was a welcoming feast for a Princess. But, Edward couldn't help but wonder if Emma could drink ale like a fish, or only water. Of course, he was distracted by his father yet again. "I'm starving, actually," he said, defiant. It may or may not have been a lie, but he would eat anyway, just in spite of his father's words. After taking another sip of ale, he turned to his betrothed. "Please do not allow my father to change your view of me. You know family - always embarrassing." He was just so glad his sister wasn't here, or his brothers for that matter. Edward would have surely died of embarrassment.

The South was a mystery to her - even with all of her pervious studies - as the Canty men lead Emma towards their Great Hall. As King Robert opened the doors himself she could already feel all of the eyes drift towards the group. Green eyes soaked in all that they could. The people, the attire, the very environment of the room. She was a sheep in wolves' clothing. Worse yet, a literal fish out of water.

Emma's thumb stroked the cool metal of her family's sigil pin hidden now underneath the cloak. No man rose from their seats as the Royals walked down the center aisle. In fact they seemed even more relaxed than before they had crossed through the doorframe. Confusion flushed her senses and overtook Emma's features. _'Where exactly am I?'_ Emma asked herself. Secret smiles and politely curious stares followed the young woman all he way up to the head of the table. _'What a strange world.'_ "Your hospitality has already cast away some of the famous heat of the South, King Robert."

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who takes the time to read along. _Evil is__ Coming, slowly but surely, don't worry dears :)_**

**_Preview: Emma and Marcus had retired to the solar of the Dark Palace, a fire blazing in the grate as Emma cradled the large chess piece in her hand, the ornate piece craved out to a white swan. Marcus, a small cup of wine in his hand, was watching the Commander in Arms. "I do believe," he said quietly, carefully choosing his words, "this is the first time I have seen you smile since you draped your marital cloak over Her Majesty's shoulders." He took a gentle sip of his wine to quickly hide his own smile lest Emma disapprove of his statement. He enjoyed seeing the younger Queen happy - it generally meant that she was satisfied with things. That seemed to be more and more a common thing as time passed, Marcus noticed._**

_**Marcus gently placed the wine down on the table, and looked at the fire for a few moments. "I don't suppose you much feel like conducting affairs of a political nature today, Your Majesty, given the happy events?" He glanced at Emma, who still held the wooden chess piece as if it were the most precious gem in the world. Indeed, Marcus reasoned, that might be exactly how Emma saw the swan.**_

_**"The final piece Marcus," the blonde woman said, "Is close within my reach."**_


End file.
